


Absence Makes the Gut Grow Softer

by Chubstilinski



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Worship, Chubby Kink, Chubby Ronan, College Student Adam Parrish, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-The Raven King, Series Spoilers, Teasing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:44:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chubstilinski/pseuds/Chubstilinski
Summary: Adam looked at him through the windshield of his car. Ronan’s hair was grown out to a longer buzzcut. His hollowed cheeks were filled in and his jawline was no longer sharp. Ronan looked bulkier now, but not with muscle; he was blanketed with softness, edges sanded off. The sight of him made Adam’s breath catch in his throat.





	Absence Makes the Gut Grow Softer

**Author's Note:**

> So this is post-TRK and I was thinking that Adam’s connection to Cabeswater never went away as much as it was just dulled until Ronan remade it again, and his bargain still stands. Don’t think about it too hard lmao I just dig his magician powers. Noah’s still around because I say so.
> 
> All of the thanks to my lovely partner in crime [Donutwolf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/donutwolf/pseuds/donutwolf)/[Blackdonuthole](https://blackdonuthole.tumblr.com/) for betaing and cheerleading and making me actually write things <3

Adam pulled up to The Barns, the Hondayota’s suspension struggling with the uneven gravel driveway. Late afternoon sun spilled over the grass, the trees, the sheds and buildings scattered across the landscape. The fields were relentlessly spring green, even though it was well into November.

Adam felt overwhelmed by being here again. By seeing Ronan again, leaning casually against the railing on the front porch, waiting for him.

When he’d started walking into Ronan’s dreams, it had been an accident, born of proximity and familiarity. They had done it without knowing what to call it or how it worked. And then it took some effort to get it right--dreamwalking, astral projecting--but now it was almost easy for Adam to fold himself into Ronan’s dreams while they both slept, no matter how far away from each other they were. Ronan always opened his dream-Cabeswater to Adam when he asked.

While Adam was at school, it became something of a ritual, like the ones he had adapted to connect with his other friends. Gansey would always Skype him on weekends, sometimes with Henry. He pinned all of Blue’s postcards to the wall above his desk, and saved every email. It just so happened that Boston was along the same ley line that connected New York and DC and Henrietta, Virginia. This turned out to be perfect for allowing Noah to appear unsettlingly by his side whenever he wanted. And then, at night, when Ronan’s unpredictable sleeping patterns lined up with Adam’s, they would dream together. That was how it went.

But in the end, the dreams were a construct. No matter how painstakingly they were crafted, no matter how much depth and detail Ronan’s mind was able to create, they were not a true reflection of reality. This was never more clear to Adam than when he set his eyes on the real, tangible version of Ronan, trying too hard to look nonchalant as he waited for Adam to park.

It had been three months, but it could’ve been a year. It felt like a year.

The Ronan in their shared dreams looked almost like how Adam remembered him: head shaved down so close it left only the barest rasp of stubble, sharp features, his body strong but thin, skin stretched over muscle. But the projection was just different enough from the version of Ronan Adam had left that he knew he wasn’t quite the same. Ronan had long since filled out, just ever so slightly, abs no longer cut and defined, but the Ronan in front of him was different still; from both his dream self and the one in Adam’s memories.

Adam looked at him through the windshield of his car. Ronan’s hair was grown out to a longer buzzcut. His hollowed cheeks were filled in and his jawline was no longer sharp. Ronan looked bulkier now, but not with muscle; he was blanketed with softness, edges sanded off. The sight of him made Adam’s breath catch in his throat.

It wasn’t just his looks, either, the changes in him. It was clear in his posture, the set of his shoulders relaxed rather than poised for a fight. Even his impassive, carefully neutral expression looked incomplete, like he couldn’t manage to disguise the warmth underneath. It used to be he was nearly always radiating anger or contempt or indifference, and it struck Adam how much time had passed since he’d been that way.

Over the summer Adam had spent here before he went to Harvard, Ronan had been more like this, but it had happened so gradually. Maybe he’d been too close to really notice the changes that were so clear to him now. The Ronan from last year compared to this one.

He looked content.

Something lit Adam up from the inside. He was suddenly, wildly overcome by a need he didn’t know how to name. He spilled out of the driver’s side door, strode up the pathway, up the three creaking stairs leading to the porch, backed Ronan into the door and kissed him.

Right before their lips met, Adam caught the ghost of a smile splitting Ronan’s face, and now, now, he finally felt the way Ronan looked. Relief cascaded over him, washing him with warmth and magic and belonging. He kissed Ronan until he was gasping for air.

But he wanted more, he wanted--something. Adam’s fingers itched where they were buried under Ronan’s jacket, grasping at plush hips, fingertips sinking into flesh. It made him _ache_. He wanted to take off all those layers so he could see, he wanted--

Ronan broke from the kiss with a shuddery gasp, head thudding back against the door. “Fuck. Nice to see you too, Parrish.”

Adam blinked his eyes open and smiled. His lips were tingling. “Missed you, shitbag.”

Ronan’s eyes flickered over Adam’s face, thumbs caressing his jaw on either side. He smirked. “Should I tell Dick we’re gonna be late?”

Adam thought about it. They had plans to meet Di-- _Gansey_ , Blue, Henry, and Noah at Nino’s for dinner. Afterwards, he and Ronan would likely spend the night catching up with them at Monmouth Manufacturing, sprawled out on top of Gansey’s overpriced leather furniture. That was what he should do.

But even with the way Ronan seemed softer, now, there was still this feeling that swept over Adam whenever he was in Ronan’s presence, that made him want to do things he shouldn’t. It was the same feeling that got Adam’s knees and elbows scraped up getting pushed around parking lots in a shopping cart. The same one that made Adam’s heart leap into his throat, thrilled and terrified, when Ronan pressed the gas pedal of the BMW to the floor.

Ronan made him feel wild. Electric. That much hadn’t changed. So Adam grinned and said, “Yes.”

Ronan’s matching grin shot through him. It was so sharp Adam wondered how he could have thought Ronan had mellowed at all. He was still the same. Harsh and gentle in the same breath.

Adam stepped into his space, pressing their bodies together, chest to thigh. It shouldn’t feel so new, but it was entirely different than Adam remembered.

There were no ribs pressed into him, bruising his own. No hard muscles. Just the endless, supple expanse of Ronan’s stomach cushioning Adam’s. It was strange. His head was swimming with the sensation.

He kissed Ronan again, to get closer, to feel the slide of Ronan’s tongue against his own. He straddled Ronan’s thigh--thicker, softer--and ground down into it. It surprised Adam to find that he was hard, already, but it shouldn’t have. Ronan had always driven him crazy. Today was no different, except he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something _more_ to the way he felt.

His tongue was so hot against Adam’s, his kisses intense, and God, how could Adam have forgotten what this was like? He moaned into Ronan’s mouth.

A loud _caw_ was all the warning Adam got before tiny pinpricks of claws dug into the skin of his shoulder. He jolted in shock, putting his hand over his heart like he could calm it. Ronan laughed.

“Asshole,” Adam panted. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of the raven on his shoulder. She shook out her wings and tugged at strands of his hair with her beak. “Hey, Chainsaw.”

Ronan was still trying to get his laughter under control, but he waved his hands at Chainsaw and said, “Come on you little shit. Get the fuck out of here.” She nipped at his hands, but obediently flapped over to land on the porch railing. “She missed you.”

“Hmm.” Adam had a feeling he really meant, _I missed you_ , but he decided not to call him out on it. “Where’s Opal?”

“Getting trained in the dark arts or some shit.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “So at Fox Way?”

“Mhm. We’ve got the house all to ourselves.”

A spark of heat rushed through him. “Let’s get inside.”

“Oh yeah, _let’s._ ” Ronan smirked like he’d taken _inside_ to mean something vulgar, and Adam huffed. He wanted to be more annoyed, but Ronan wasn’t entirely wrong. Adam was surprised with himself for how needy he felt, in that moment.

Adam stepped back, but discovered that his hands had found their way to Ronan’s thick waist while he wasn’t paying attention and he wanted more than anything to keep them there. It was an effort to pry them away when all he wanted was to keep feeling for all the places where his fingertips could press in. Ronan cleared his throat and Adam looked up at his face, realizing that his eyes had been hooked on the roundness of Ronan’s belly, the hollow of his navel showing through his t-shirt.

He felt heat crawl up his cheeks, his ears, his neck. Ronan’s face was a mask. There was a tiny, almost imperceptible knit between his brows like he was afraid but trying not to show it. “Ronan,” Adam started, but he trailed off, finding that he didn’t quite know how to continue.

In a low voice, Ronan asked, “You got something to say?”

Adam paused, thoughts rolling around in his mind that he didn’t know how to put to words. “No.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “I know you’re not blind, asshole.”

He sighed. “Ronan. You look…” He grasped for something meaningful, and then said, “ _G_ _ood_ _,”_ like the word he really meant was somewhere closer to _beautiful, perfect_ , but he couldn’t quite manage to find one that was fitting enough. He fought back a wince after he said it, not because it sounded dishonest, but because the word dripped with absolute truth.

Ronan raised his eyebrows. The corners of his mouth twitched. Adam held his gaze, letting Ronan read him. He felt exposed.

“Never took you for a chubby chaser, Parrish.” Ronan’s mouth bloomed into a smug grin, and he took Adam’s hand in his, opened the front door, and pulled him into the house.

Something inside Adam thrilled a little at hearing it vocalized. _Chubby_ , he thought. Ronan was chubby. His breath hitched, and he was thankful, for once, to not have Ronan’s eyes on him. He had never taken himself for a chubby chaser, either, but he was having trouble denying the effect Ronan had on him, like _this_. The weight had settled in his thighs, and his ass, and Adam couldn’t keep his gaze from trailing across them while Ronan pulled him through the foyer.

Ronan said, “What, you’re not gonna deny it?”

He spun Adam around and pressed him into the wall next to the stairs, hard enough that a startled breath shot out of him. His hands found Ronan’s waist again. Ronan felt like so much _more_ pinning him like this. Heavy.

“I--” Adam shut his eyes to feel with more clarity. He heard a breathy, desperate sound, and realized it was him only because Ronan started shaking with silent laughter. It made all that extra flesh jiggle against him. “Shut up. Fuck.”

Adam’s hands clenched where they were against Ronan’s back, finding plush skin and muscle. He imagined how Ronan’s tattoos would fold over those plump little rolls underneath his shoulder blades, into the crevices between them. He wanted to study the map of ink across his skin.

His hands slid down to Ronan’s ass, and he was strangely gratified to note the tiny bulge of fat were the waistband of his jeans cut in right before it. He let his fingers play over his skin while Ronan sucked bruises into his throat. He couldn’t breathe with how much he wanted.

Adam couldn’t help wondering what it was that had made him put on weight like this. He’d seen Ronan down entire pizzas and six packs of beer, and it never seemed to show on him before. Adam wanted to ask, to find out what he’d been eating, what he’d been doing, without really knowing why it was he wanted it. And he couldn’t ask, not yet.

He said, “I’m not a--chubby chaser,” but it felt like a lie even as he said it because he didn’t _know_ , not really. The only thing he knew was that he had been totally unprepared for the way the sight of Ronan would affect him. And the way he _felt_. He never wanted to stop touching him. “You just feel so fucking good. God, Ronan.”

Ronan hitched his leg between Adam’s, panting into his hearing ear, “You’re so fuckin’ weird.”

“Says the man who takes things out of his dreams,” Adam mumbled. His mind felt sluggish but his body was on fire, shuddering with ecstasy just from feeling Ronan move against him.

Ronan kissed him with an edge of brutality, consuming, and anything that was left of Adam’s thoughts fizzled out in a haze of sensation--the smell of him and the burning heat of his skin, those light, breathy sounds, and the continuous ripples in his flesh as he writhed against Adam.

It was a long time until Adam realized one of his hands had inched its way between them to feel Ronan’s stomach. His belly. It was absurdly soft, scalding hot, and Adam should not be aching to be touched just from feeling it under his fingertips.

But he was.

Ronan pulled away to gasp for air and mutter curses under his breath. “Fucking shit. Christ, Adam.”

Adam shivered, loving the way his name slid over Ronan’s tongue. His control had long since slipped away, but it didn’t matter, not with Ronan’s hands gentle on either side of his neck, with so much pressure from the weight of his body, his abdominal muscles tensing underneath the layer of fat under Adam’s palm, the thick thigh between his. Adam was close, so close. “Oh,” he said. “God.”

Ronan kissed him again, pulled him by the neck until Adam stumbled forwards, back leaving the surface of the wall. He didn’t open his eyes, just let Ronan guide him until he lost his balance and fell into him, on top of him. Adam opened his eyes and realized they’d landed on the living room couch, Ronan splayed out underneath.

He slid his tongue into Ronan’s mouth and straddled his hips. He tried to keep his hands from wandering, just contented himself to feel Ronan’s belly against his while they kissed, but after awhile, Ronan began to get impatient. Adam could tell by the way he squirmed and bit at Adam’s lips, the way his fingers scratched down his back, nails bitten too short to make more than the slightest contact.

Ronan wrapped his fingers around Adam’s wrists in a firm grip. He held them in place for a long moment, like he wanted something but didn’t know how to ask for it. Adam let Ronan’s full bottom lip slide from in between his.

“You want somethin’?” Adam said, dripping in the southern drawl he usually fought back so that Ronan knew Adam was as undone as he was. That he could ask for anything.

Ronan groaned, barely audible, brows furrowing like he was angry about something, or angry at himself. He leaned up to kiss Adam again, forceful, _distracting_. A kiss like that could distract Adam from a lot of things, but not from the way Ronan tentatively brought Adam’s hands to his belly and held them there.

Adam moaned like it was knocked out of him, loud enough that there was no possible mistaking it for being about anything other than the way his fingers flexed against pliant skin. “ _Shit_.”

“Adam.”

He shivered, eyes closed, trying to grip handfuls of Ronan’s belly, and felt Ronan’s muscles jump underneath him. He was so soft, supple like dough. Adam had never felt anything so perfect.

Ronan’s belly was smaller lying back, fat spilled out towards his sides, but there was still a little left for Adam to cup in his hands. Ronan finally let his wrists go and Adam dragged his palms across the expanse of him. “Jesus, Ronan,” he said, barely more than a breath. His mind was a tangle of thoughts, and one managed to escape unbidden. “I thought _I_ was supposed to gain the freshman fifteen.”

Adam had a fleeting moment of panic. He didn’t know how sensitive Ronan was about this, but it had to be at least a little, since the dream version of him was still cut and wiry where his real self was anything but. Adam held his breath.

But then Ronan smiled. It was breathtaking. He said, “It’s not too late, college boy.” Ronan pinched the barely there bit of flesh on Adam’s narrow hips, more skin than fat, and Adam laughed, startled. He leaned back in to kiss him, wet and hot, still half smiling into it. His hands slid up from Ronan’s sides to cup his chest, the place where his pecs were just starting to get soft, too. Ronan moaned, quiet and shaky, when Adam’s fingers traced them.

He trailed his lips down to Ronan’s neck, his collarbone, drinking in the tiny hitches in Ronan’s breath, the sounds he couldn’t quite keep in. Adam shifted so he was settled between Ronan’s thighs and he couldn’t help the way his hips ground against Ronan’s. He felt like he could come with barely anything more than that.

Adam slid his fingers under the hem of Ronan’s shirt and pushed it up. “Take it off, I need…” Only he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Not out loud. He needed to feel Ronan under his lips, he needed to taste him.

Ronan sat up and kissed him, impatient. “Yeah, fuck. Anything.” He stripped off his shirt, threw it to the floor, and kissed him again, too soon for Adam to see anything more than a flash of Ronan’s body before he pulled him down.

They kissed until Adam’s lungs were screaming, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He broke away with a gasp, propped himself up on his arms and lifted his hips because he was too close.

Adam opened his eyes and took Ronan in. He was panting, mouth open, sweat glistening at his temples and eyes half lidded. His stomach shook ever so slightly every time his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Adam couldn’t take his eyes off him.

He balanced on one arm so he’d have the other hand free to trail his fingers over the dark hair on Ronan’s belly, from his navel down to the waistband of his jeans. He shifted down further so his face was level with it. Adam lowered his lips to hover just above Ronan’s skin. Ronan was trembling with adrenaline or nerves or both. He sucked in a breath as Adam’s lips made contact, shuddered and then stilled. Every muscle in his body was tense as Adam nosed at his belly, dragged his lips in a barely there whisper over his heated skin. Ronan was salty with sweat. “Do you want me to stop?” Adam said.

Ronan growled. “Are you fucking _shitting_ me right now, Parrish? If you don’t--” Adam sucked a hard kiss into the soft pouch of Ronan’s lower belly and Ronan cried out. “Ah! Fuck, fuck.” Adam grinned, satisfied heat settling in his own gut.

He licked into Ronan’s navel and sucked at the little bulge of fat right above it. Ronan was breathing hard, one arm thrown over his eyes, hips grinding up, desperately searching for friction. “Jesus shit mother of _fuck, Adam_.”

Adam was shaking with desperation. He eased one hand down to cup himself through his jeans, to grind against his palm while his tongue explored Ronan’s body. He pushed his face down, sinking in just enough to feel enveloped in that soft heat, and his world was filthy wet sounds and all that sweet, doughy perfection against his skin.

“Please,” Ronan said. “Please, Adam.”

Adam turned his face to the side so he could say, “What do you want, Ronan?”

“Keep--keep doing that. But... for fuck’s sake, touch me, Jesus fucking Christ, Adam.” Ronan made this sound like a choked off moan. “ _Please_.”

Adam felt a surge of power, making someone so beautiful beg for him. He groaned and buried his face in Ronan’s belly, rising to his knees so he could pop the button of Ronan’s jeans. He didn’t bother to take them all the way off, just pulled Ronan’s underwear down enough that he could take his cock out and wrap his fingers around it.

The flesh around his face moved in waves as Ronan shuddered with pleasure. Ronan had his mouth clamped shut against the sounds rising up out of his throat, helpless little aborted whines and the muffled vibrations of moans that never quite broke.

Adam licked at Ronan’s cock, just to get it wet enough to stroke with his hand before sucking a mouthful of Ronan’s soft lower belly into his mouth and laving it with his tongue. Ronan’s hips rose up in little jerky thrusts and Adam grasped desperately at his own dick through his jeans.

It was too much, he couldn’t hold back anymore, and Adam let the feeling of bliss wash over him in waves, rubbing his cheek against the heated skin of Ronan’s stomach as he came.

He was still shaking when he took Ronan into his mouth, both hands fisted tight into the fat at Ronan’s hips, and Ronan came down his throat with a yell, voice scraped raw.

Adam crawled up the couch and collapsed on top of Ronan, head pillowed on his chest.

“Holy Mary mother of fucking shit,” Ronan sighed.

Adam snorted. “Yeah,” he said.

“That was some welcome home gift.”

 _Home_ , Adam thought. “If anyone should be getting a welcome home gift, it’s me.”

“You saying you didn’t?”

“Hmm,” Adam said.

“Thought so.”

Ronan carded his fingers through Adam’s hair. Adam let his trail along Ronan’s sides, into the dips and valleys of his flesh. He hummed with contentment and asked, “Why didn’t you look like this? In the dreams?”

Adam lifted his eyes to blink up at Ronan. He was silhouetted in a halo of bright sunset and Adam had to squint to see the expression on his face. He looked guarded, gaze unfocused over Adam’s shoulder.

Adam sighed. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I want to see you.”

For a moment, Ronan’s eyes locked on Adam’s, something vulnerable reflecting in their endless blue before his expression cleared. Ronan said, “Yeah, okay, Parrish. I’ll make sure to indulge your fucking weird fantasies from now on.”

“Asshole.”

“Freak.”

Adam glared at him even as a smile threatened to ruin the effect of it, and he poked Ronan in his soft belly. Ronan laughed, pushing Adam’s hands away, and his face settled into something satisfied and warm.

Adam startled when Ronan’s pocket buzzed under his thigh. He eased a hand underneath himself to fish the phone out, trying to move as little as possible. The screen lit up with a flood of texts in the group chat. Adam typed out a reply, saying they were about to leave. He sighed and thumped his head back onto Ronan’s chest. It was a fantastic pillow. “We should head over to Nino’s,” he said.

“Mhmm,” Ronan’s eyes fluttered shut like he’d rather bask in the fading sunlight with Adam draped over him than move even an inch. Adam closed his eyes, too. Feeling indulgent, he spent a few moments tracing circles into Ronan’s stomach, admiring the way his flesh indented under the pressure, before Ronan’s voice, thick with sleep, said, “You just wanna make sure I’m well fed so I don’t lose this gut, don’t you, Parrish?”

Adam’s belly swooped like the split second right before a fall. He felt heat claw up his face. “Fuck off,” Adam muttered.

“It’s cool if you do. Can’t say I’d mind.” It could have been sarcastic, but there was that studied casualness in the way Ronan said it, the one that never failed to tip Adam off to what Ronan was really thinking even if he never said it sincerely.

And Adam hadn’t been thinking about it before, not consciously, but now--now it was impossible not to. Adam could see it with perfect clarity: making sure Ronan ate his fill. _More_ than his fill. Making sure his body stayed round and soft. It was a thousand times more appealing than it had any right to be, and in the face of it, Adam was stricken with how much he wanted it.

“Okay,” he said. Suddenly the thought of going to Nino’s filled him with a strange sort of heat. He propped himself up to hover over Ronan and said, “Hope you’re hungry, then.”

Surprise flickered over Ronan’s face so quickly Adam almost missed it, and then he grinned, wide and toothy and devilish. Adam’s heart thundered in his chest. “Maybe. Jesus, God, Adam. You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

Adam allowed himself the luxury of leaning into Ronan for a slow, lingering kiss before climbing off of him. “I’m gonna get a change of clothes from the car.”

Ronan’s face did something complicated. Adam had a hard time following it before it settled into something pleasant but otherwise indiscernible. In Adam’s experience, a face like that meant trouble, although he wasn’t sure what kind this time. Ronan’s hand slid down to palm over his belly, seemingly casual, and even though Adam knew better, he couldn’t take his eyes away.

“ _Ronan_ ,” he said.

“What?” Adam could tell Ronan was trying for innocence, but nothing about Ronan ever looked completely innocent.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Ronan leapt off the couch with a flash of a smile and shouldered past him, saying, “Yeah, I’m gonna get changed, too. I’ll meet you out there.”

Adam resisted the urge to pull Ronan back in by the waist. Instead, he went back out to his car and got a change of clothes from his suitcase, changed in the hallway, and went back out to wait for Ronan on the hood of the BMW.

Adam spent a few minutes gazing up at the purple-pink of the sky, impossible early winter fireflies in a complicated dance around him. He breathed in deep lungfuls of crisp air and tried to calm the anticipatory racing of his heart with limited success.

He felt like his blood was still rushing through his veins even as he tried to catalogue what had happened. He found that he didn’t quite know how. Adam had enjoyed it, and apparently so had Ronan, and maybe it was really that simple. But he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was teetering on the edge of something.

Gravel crunched under Ronan’s footsteps. Adam didn’t turn to look at him, so Ronan came around to lean his hip into the car, right within touching distance on Adam’s side.

“Shit,” Adam said, the word falling from his lips without consciously even having thought of it. “Ronan.”

Ronan had put on a tank top that hugged his body immaculately. Just tight enough to show his rounded belly, plush little love handles, his chest, without being _completely_ obscene. He’d left off his jacket, tossing it onto the hood by Adam’s legs even though the air rose goosebumps on his arms. Adam’s eyes trailed over Ronan’s body, down to the black jeans that Adam remembered having fit him very differently three months ago, noticing the way the fat on Ronan’s thighs pushed out from between their artful rips and holes.

Adam didn’t even spare a moment wondering _why_ Ronan had dressed like that, because it was clear in the smirk on Ronan’s face.

He was showing off.

“Like what you see, Parrish? Thought you’d appreciate the view.”

“Uh,” Adam said. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “Guess you look alright.”

Adam sat up, twisting his legs to bracket Ronan’s hips. Ronan leaned into him and whispered, “Bullshit, Adam.”

Ronan rested both hands on the hood of the car and brought his face to Adam’s neck, just to drag his nose and lips gently across his skin. Adam shivered. He brought his fingers to Ronan’s hips, lifted his shirt just enough to sweep them across his love handles and said, “Well, shit, Ronan. Do you _want_ us to miss dinner?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that, but then _I_ just saw Dick and Jane yesterday.”

Adam sighed. He really did want to see his friends. He missed them, and he felt a little guilty that a part of him wanted to stay right where he was for just a little while longer. “Yeah, you’re right. I know, I know. We should... get going--”

“I just thought the view would give you something to look forward to later.”

Adam ran his tongue over his bottom lip, imagining how the evening would play out. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off Ronan all through dinner. Especially with the promise that he’d let Adam make sure he was well fed. Adam could so clearly picture Ronan sprawled out on Gansey’s floor, shirt riding up so Adam could see a flash of skin, his belly full and satisfied.

“Tease,” Adam said, voice sounding raw. But he was also sure that no matter what Ronan wore, he would be thinking the exact same thing. No amount of baggy layers could ever make Adam forget. “I would’ve been looking forward to it either way, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Ronan smiled, barely there and stripped of the venom he usually poured into it. “Fuckin’ sap.” He swatted at Adam’s thigh and pulled back to walk around to the driver’s side. “Get the fuck off my car.”

Ronan threw on his jacket, reached into the pocket, and tossed something at Adam. He caught it inches from his face and turned it over in his hands. It was a small packet of chocolate covered peanuts, but something about it was strange. There was what looked like a stem growing out of one of the corners, silvery plastic of the package fading into brown. There were no nutritional facts but one of the ingredients was apparently ‘gun.’

Adam knew enough to recognize a dream object.

“What the hell is this?”

Ronan threw open the driver’s side door. He said, “Chocolate covered peanuts,” and slid into the BMW.

Adam rolled his eyes and got in, too. He shut his door, waited for Ronan to slam his with a deafening _bang_. “No shit,” Adam said. “Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ronan threw the keys in the ignition, started the engine, shifted, and peeled down the driveway in one fluid movement. “A tree,” he said.

Adam blinked at Ronan’s profile. “A tree.” His mind conjured up an image of a tree bearing dozens of packets like fruit, constant and replenishing with the power of dream magic. He thought about Ronan having a nearly unlimited supply of snacks, and part of Adam balked at the idea of someone so wealthy having access to that kind of resource. But another part of him, the part that made his hand itch to reach over and touch Ronan’s belly again, wanted Ronan to have it. He bit his lips in an effort to not say anything too obvious. Adam said, “You got a lot of trees like this?”

“A few,” Ronan said with a little bite, more to draw attention away from the blood Adam could see rushing to his face than from any real irritation.

The tree in Adam’s mind was now a whole grove, an orchard of every imaginable treat: all of Ronan’s favorites. “You dream yourself up food, now?”

“Sometimes.”

“Hmm,” Adam said, running the pad of his thumb across the slick surface of the peanut packet. “What kinds?”

“There’s an ice cream cone tree, too. One of them has a beer tap.”

Adam laughed. “That shouldn’t surprise me.”

Ronan flashed a grin at him before turning his eyes back to the road. “There’s a bush that grows pieces of fudge like berries.”

“You should take me to see it, later.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Adam peeled open a corner of the package and poured a few peanuts into the palm of his hand. He smelled them, a little hesitant.

Ronan scoffed. “They’re better than any you can buy, I guarantee it. Don’t shit on my creative process, Parrish.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not.” Adam smiled and looked Ronan up and down. “I like what it’s doing for you.”

“Yeah, I bet you do, you fucking freak.”

“I really do.” Adam’s heart was in his throat. He leaned over the console to brush the knuckles of the hand still clutching his peanuts over Ronan’s belly. “Looks like the snack harvest has been good to you this year.”

“Ha ha, fuck you.”

Adam leaned in some more, dragging his lips over Ronan’s earlobe. “Please do,” he said, deep and thick and wanting. The car swerved a little on the road and Adam fell back into his seat, laughing. “You’re so easy.”

Adam poured the chocolate peanuts into his mouth. They were delicious.

Ronan scoffed. “Oh _I’m_ easy? Fine, Parrish. We’ll see which one of us is begging for it later.” Ronan took his hand off the stick shift to palm at his own belly. The sight of it tugged at something in Adam, and he swallowed.  “I’m gonna figure out every single fucking thing that makes you tick, Adam. I think you’ll find I can be pretty fucking observant with the right motivation.”

Adam had no doubt Ronan _would_ figure out all those things, even the ones he hadn’t yet figured out for himself. Ronan would tease him, but Adam would probably like it, and Ronan would probably like it because Adam liked it. Simple.

“Give it your best shot,” Adam said.

Ronan grinned, hugging the turns of the winding road as he drove from Singer’s Falls to Henrietta.

The world felt wide open.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and find me on [the tumblrs](http://chubstilinski.tumblr.com/) ~ It's mostly Teen Wolf WG centric, but I plan to write more TRC!


End file.
